


The Legend Yet Grows

by acidnightshade



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Civil War, Deviates From Canon, Dovakiin will try to avoid destiny, Fate & Destiny, Her Guardian Won't Let Her, Multi, Novelization, Side Quests, Skyrim Main Quest, pairings to come later - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidnightshade/pseuds/acidnightshade
Summary: The Legend of Tamriel yet grows.Yisrael, a bosmer who hails from Chorrel, has been tasked with finding and protecting the heir to the empire as she fulfills her destiny. With his firey temper, he tends to get in more trouble than he wants to.Aldwyn, daughter of the Champion of Cyrodiil and the Last Septim Emperor, awakens after 200 years and takes on her destiny as the Dovakiin. With her compassionate soul, she is driven to travel across Skyrim to help the suffering people.Wielding a warrior's heart, she and her protector Yisrael set out on an adventure across Skyrim on an epic journey to save the world from dragons, evil, and even itself.





	1. Only the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> The Legend Yet Grows  
> By AcidNightshade and Zen

Sundas, the 9th of Last Seed, 4E201.

It was on this day that Avren, the Great Sage of the Mages Guild, had a vision. In his vision he saw the end of times, Alduin the Destroyer of Worlds, and the only one able to stop him... he saw the image of the Hero of Kvatch, the late h'Allmurain Silvermyr, who was Assassinated by Tidus Mede I, and the image of the late Martin Septim, the last of the Imperial Line of Septim, and in their arms was a baby.

That baby formed into a young woman, who stood with Dawnbreaker in hand against the evil Alduin. Next to her, bow drawn, was a Bosmer Archer, who looked like the Snow Elves of old with their long silver hair. Together they defeated Alduin and brought peace to Tamriel, the vision ending with the young woman on the throne of the Dragon Emperor, the young Bosmer by her side, ever her protector.

Avren knew of only one Bosmer who fit the description, and so he sent a messenger to Yisrael Talron to come before him to accept his destiny.

The ancient mage met with the young Bosmer, Yisrael, and told him of his vision and the role Yisrael was to play in the coming crisis. He bid the young Bosmer to travel North to Skyrim, the land of Ice and Snow, where he will encounter the Last of the Septim line, and the true Heir to the throne of the Empire.

This is how Yisrael Talron found himself traveling on a week long journey to the border of Cyrodiil and Skyrim when he was captured by Imperial forces during an Ambush to capture Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the Stormcloak Rebellion and murderer of the High King Torryg... He, along with a Stormcloak named Ralof, Ulfric Stormcloak, A Horse Thief named Lokir, and an unconcious young woman in tattered clothes were thrown unceremoniously into the back of a cart on the way to their destiny... The Chopping Block at Helgen. It was Morndas, the 17th of Last Seed, 4E201, at approximately 9:30.

So much for destiny, right? That's the first thought that comes to Yisrael's mind when he finally wakes. The last thing he can recall is being knocked unconscious by Imperial forces. Something about a Stormcloak Rebellion? Last he checked though, he wasn't a Stormcloak, or a Rebel. He came from a village to the South, where the woods were vast, and the hunts were endless.

The young Bosmer couldn't decline Avren's call, or ignore his destiny. There had to be a reason for him ending up on this cart with these Rebel's, but said reason was unknown to him at the moment. There are several others atop him, and it takes a lot to push them to the side, but once he does he sits up, immediately looking from side to side, hoping to spot his bow.

Would there be any chance for escape? Could he leap from the cart and vanish into the woods? So many questions, so little time. If necessary, he would plead his cause to the ones holding him captive, that he's not a part of this group, that he's on a sacred destiny given to him by Avren, the ancient mage, surely they would be familiar with him!

A groan sounded to Yisrael's right as Ralof rolls out of the dogpile and sits up to look around. The cart was starting to come to life. The heavy man with the large cloak rolled out of the pile as well, looking startled as a young woman clattered down to the floor of the cart next to the Bosmer.

"Ah. Jarl Ulfric. It looks like they got you too..." Ralof murmurs and helps the older man sit on the bench of the cart, "Muzzled like a dog, those cowards". Lokir, who came to shortly after struggled his own way onto the bench across from Ulfric. "Now, who might you be?" He asks as he helped the Bosmer up onto a bench, then propping the young woman up on the bench as well. "You're not one of us... and you're not wearing any imperial armor... were you captured trying to cross the border into Skyrim, Bosmer?"

_Bosmer, bosmer, bosmer_... as if he was simply that and nothing more. Yisrael would have been less offended if they had addressed him as boy. No matter. He accepts their help up onto the bench, taking a moment to roll his shoulders in an attempt to stretch, even if it was just a little bit. Lord Ulfric? Was he the leader of this rag tag group of rebels?

It's almost funny, but he honestly has no clue of the political state of the land, he'd never bothered learning the political aspects of anything. Unless it was deemed ultimately necessary, which, given his current destiny, politics would soon be a central part of his life.

"My name is not Bosmer, rebel. I am Yisrael Talron. I come from the vast hunting grounds to the South of these lands. I've been tasked with a great important task from the ancient mage, Avren. I am to aid the true Heir to the throne of this Empire." Was it wise to tell these people of his destiny? Probably not. But if it had been at all a danger to his cause, he likely wouldn't have said it.

What the ancient mage sees is usually set in stone, if not always. Right? "I must have been captured during the skirmish you lot were involved in, though I can assure you it wasn't intentional." The last thing he wanted was to be stuck on this cart that smelled of death with these buffoons.

Ralof and Ulfric glanced at Yisrael, and Ulfric snorted his laughter. Lokir looked over at Yisrael in commiseration. "Jarl Ulfric??? You and I are in the same issue friend Yisrael! I shouldn't be here! I'm not a rebel! I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!"

"I remember what the imperials said. You're a horse thief who happened to get caught along with us," Ralof laughed miserably. "But no matter. Here we all go to the same fate." Lokir shook his head in fear. "No... NO!"

A groan came from the woman as she came to, a look of confusion on her face. She saw that she was on a carriage with three men and a male elf. Her vision was a bit blurry but she thought he looked more like a Snow Elf.

"What in the name of Akatosh?"

"Ah, you're awake! Just in time to view Skyrim one last time before the end!" Ralof said with a sad smile on his face.

"Last time?" she murmured, looking at all the men on the cart.

"No! They can't do this! I don't want to die!" Lokir shouted.

"Face your death with honor, horse thief!" Ralof grumbled, then turned back to the woman. "Looks like they picked you up the same time as the horse thief, Jarl Ulfric, Yisrael, and I."

Was his destiny some sort of joke to this Jarl? Yisrael squints, obviously annoyed now, he's in no mood to be mocked, considering they are supposedly on their way to their deaths. Instead, he opts for silence, turning his attention to Lokir, brows quirked.

"Ah... so it is like that. Doomed to die for simply crossing a border into the land where my destiny awaits." Truthfully, he knew his destiny was not to die here, so he had no fear about him. Annoyance more than any other emotion.

When the woman wakes he turns his attention to her, head tilted ever so slightly, something about her stood out. As if, she was the reason he was on this cart in the first place. Maybe he hadn't been at the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe it was the right place, at the right time.

"Bosmer, horse thief, fool, we do have names. While I'm grateful you address me by my proper name, I'm sure our concerned friend here possesses one as well. Do you feel not for the less fortunate? Perhaps that horse was meant to aid his family." Did Yisrael actually know why the man was stealing a horse? Nope. But he wasn't the type to always assume the worst... not always, anyway.

"Less fortunate? Yes!" Lokir exclaimed, looking unapologetic. "That damn noble bastard wasn't going to be hurting for losing his horse. 'snot like I stole from a poor farmer!" He grumbled and looked over at Jarl Ulfric, but the look of disgust on the Jarl's face made Lokir duck his head.

"I'm sorry, Yisrael. But I didn't know his name... nor hers," Ralof replied. "What are your names? Where are you from?"

"What's it to you, rebel?" Lokir growled.

"A nord's last thoughts should be of home..." Ralof sighed, looking off to the distance.

"Rorikstead... I'm Lokir of Rorikstead..." he finally murmured. Then, all eyes turned to the woman.

"I'm Aldwyn Silvermyr of Kvatch, in Cyrodiil..." Aldwyn murmured, picking at her tattered rags with her bound hands.

"All is forgiven... I'm often quick to anger, and while I do not apologize for it, I want you to be aware of that, in case our paths may cross again." Was Lokir really less fortunate/poor? Who knows, and honestly Yisrael doesn't plan to take the time to care. He just doesn't like it when people are referred to improperly. Simple things like that often set him off.

"Lokir, Aldwyn.... while our situation is regrettable, I am Yisrael Talron, I come from the lands South of here. I've been tasked with an important journey. Today, none of us will meet an untimely fate, I can assure you." He was certain he and the girl would live, at least, but the others he couldn't promise.

The woman looked over at Yisrael Talron with unfocused eyes. "I'm sorry, Yisrael. You said Bosmer? I thought you looked like a Snow Elf. I knew one once, long ago...  Gilraen. He lived in Mournhold, the Capital of Morrowind, before the Red Mountain erupted. After the eruption we all fled and I never saw him again." She fell silent in mourning. Then, she looked up at Yisrael, her eyes flashing gold as she focused in on his face. "Thank you for your reassurance. We will make it. I am sure of it."

Jarl Ulfric shared a glance with Ralof. Snow Elves are extinct, changed into Falmer... And furthermore, the eruption of the Red Mountain was a long time ago... 4E05, to be exact. Was this woman delusional?

Gilraen was an unfamiliar name to him, but he couldn't help but feel pity for the woman. The look in her eyes, the way she told her story, there was no mistaking that she spoke the truth, despite those events taking place two hundred years ago, if not more. "I am sorry for your loss, Aldwyn. May he find peace in whatever realm he traveled to."

Yisrael turned his attention to the Jarl and Ralof now, brows furrowed, what was with the look they shared? The slowing of the cart signals that they've nearly reached their destination, and it leaves him feeling nervous despite knowing they'd survive. Maybe he's worried for the others instead of himself. While he was hot headed he cared for the well-being of others, that likely had a lot to do with his past as a guardsman for his hometown.

"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." Ralof said, nostalgia lacing his tone. Lokir looked scared.

"What? What do you think's going to happen to us now?" he asked as they pulled up to an awaiting executioner and chopping block.

"What do you think? Its the end of the road..." The cart came to a halt and they were all told to get off the cart. Awaiting them at their cart was a man in light imperial armor, and a woman in heavy imperial armor.  The man started calling out names of the people on the cart.

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm," Hadvar stated.

"Its been an Honor, Jarl Ulfric," Ralof murmured.

"Ralof of Riverwood" Hadvar called, and Ralof walked past him, shooting the man a dirty look.

"Lokir of Rorikstead," Hadvar called, and Lokir took off running like a bat out of Blackreach.

"You'll never get me!" he screamed as he ran, hands still bound. The captain called for the archers, and in the blink of an eye, Lokir was dead on the ground.

"Yisrael Talron of Chorrel," Hadvar called, then paused. "You're a long way from home... We'll make sure that your remains return home to Cyrodiil." Then, he turned his attention to the woman.

Had he said where he was from loud enough for the executioners to hear, or had they known all along, picking him up regardless of the fact? Everything happens so quickly. Lokir's death saddens him, given the fact he'd promised he'd survive, perhaps he would have had he not ran. There's nothing he can do for him now though, and it wasn't as though they were close friends.

At least if he was to meet his end here, his family would receive his remains, that much was comforting. He couldn't bear the pain of knowing they'd worry and wonder about what happened to their son. The bosmer simply nods in response to that, having seen what having any sort of noncompliance got Lokir. A thank you would have been muttered, but they didn't ask for him to speak. Speak when spoken to, or asked to do so. He was raised to be respectful, honest, and helpful. But still, he faced the block like the rebels and the thieves.  He walked to join the others awaiting their execution.

"Who... are you?"

"I am Aldwyn Silvermyr of Kvatch," she replied, back straight, staring the man dead in the eye. He ducked his head to the paper.

"Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list!"

"Forget the list! She goes to block with everyone else!"

"I'm sorry, countryman. I'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil." She then walked over to the block with the rest of the prisoners, coming to stand next to Yisrael.

Aldwyn wasn't even on the list yet she too faced the block, which didn't make sense to him. Hell, the fact that there's even a list in the first place is confusing to him. Was it really necessary to keep a list? Was a head not sufficient enough for their plight?

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." said a man in fancy armor who came towards the group of awaiting prisoners. Ralof muttered that his name was Tullius, the General of the Imperial army.  "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." Aldwyn's head began to hurt as the man gloated over capturing Jarl Ulfric and putting an end to the long civil war. Glancing around at the stone tower, the wooden houses, and the civilians that began to come close to witness their deaths, she began to wonder just how long she was out for. She didn't hear anything about a civil war when she and her mother were helping the Dunmer refugees!

A roar sounded in the distance and it sent Aldwyn stumbling into Yisrael. Distantly she could hear the Imperial soldier with the list asking what that sound was, and Tullius replying that it was nothing-- to continue with the executions. She blinked away the disorientation, coming to as the priestess of Arkay's prayer to bear their souls to the afterlife was cut short by an impatient Stormcloak who wanted to get it over with. She flinched as the executioner dropped his axe upon the man's neck.

"Next, the Renegade from Cyrodiil!" The captain called out. The roar was heard again, sending Aldwyn stumbling into Yisrael again.

"I said NEXT PRISONER!" she growled.

"Very well. Come along, Aldwyn. Nice and easy."

Aldwyn squared her shoulders and made her way to the block. As she knelt down to lay her head on the block, she locked eyes with Yisrael for a moment before she was pressed down onto the block, head turned to stare up at the stone tower. She watched in defiance as the executioner raised his axe over his head.

Then, a large black dragon landed on top of the tower, took a deep breath and roared!

The world erupted into flames.

 


	2. Through the Fire and the Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The escape of the Dragonborn through the town of Helgen.

"Shit! Is that a dragon?!" exclaimed Ralof as he scrambled to his feet. Overhead was the massive black dragon, still belching flames down upon them from its perch on the tower. Jarl Ulfric got to his feet and moved over to Ralof, surveying the survivors as he went. The few of his captured Stormcloaks who survived the initial blast of flames went scurrying for cover, some clambering into the surrounding houses, others running for the archers tower to the east. The bosmer was still alive, he could see, judging from the man's breathing. He crouched down by the woman who had been blasted from the executioner's block. She was alive still.

"Wake up, Imperial. If you still have strength, rise. If you still have breath in your body, you may yet survive the dragon," Ulfric intoned, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder as she opened her eyes before hurrying off to the Archer's tower. Aldwyn bit back a curse, clambered back to her feet the best she could with her hands bound as they were, and stumbled after the Jarl towards the tower.

~

Ralof crouched down next to Yisrael and shook him. "Hey, Bosmer! Are you still alive? Hey! Yisrael! You still with us? Come on! To the tower! Quick!"

The roar had startled Yisrael horribly, sending him crashing to the ground as flaming rocks rained down on them all from the sky. Everything had gone dark for a brief moment before he's coming to after having heard Ralof calling out his name. It takes Yisrael a moment to collect himself and to clear his vision, but when he finally does he's up and running with the rest of the group to the tower.

Dragons. Vile creatures. Despicable beasts, really. No care or concern for the lives of the innocent... even if some of them weren't innocent. Though he can't honestly curse the beast, as it was likely the only reason they were going to survive this ordeal.

~

Upon making it to the tower, the dragon belched out another blast of fire and flames at them all, sending Aldwyn stumbling into the Jarl who stood in the doorway. She wrenched herself away with a muttered apology and skittered away to rest against the wall by the door. Shortly thereafter, Ralof came running into the tower full tilt with Yisrael hot on his heels, as the Jarl and her sprang into action to shut and bar the door to protect them and the survivors from the flames.

Once inside of the tower Yisrael takes a moment to catch his breath and to focus on his thoughts, so the legends were true then. Instead of listening to what the other's had to say he's briefly lost in his own little world of wonder and fear. He finds himself worrying for his own village, his family - had the dragon been there, or had it come from elsewhere?

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof exclaimed, a look of fear crossing his eyes. The Jarl glanced at Ralof with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric replied in a somber tone. The dragon roared overhead, louder than before. "We need to move. Now!"

"Well, we can't go back that way..." Aldwyn muttered sardonically as she gestured to the door that she and the Jarl had closed was steadily setting on fire.

"Up through the tower! Let’s go!" Ralof shouted and started for the stairs. Aldwyn hesitated and grabbed hold of Yisrael's arm with her bound hands.

Yisrael is pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of Aldwyn's hands on him, turning his attention to look over at her. Going up through the tower wasn't the first thing he would've done, but what else could they do at this rate?

"You were right about surviving the headsman... now it’s time to see if we'll survive a dragon. If you're right about your destiny, you will not die here today..." Aldwyn stated, assured by some feeling beyond her understanding that her words were true. "If we get separated, I wish you the best of luck. Perhaps I'll see you again someday."

"I wish you the best of luck as well, fair Aldwyn. Be safe on your journeys." With that said he starts to rush off after the others, further into the tower. Staying for even a moment longer wasn't an option.

~

Aldwyn darted up the tower steps after Ralof and Yisrael. As they got to the middle landing, the wall of the tower burst inward where a window used to be. The explosion of rocks and fire killed an archer on contact, and then caused the upper part of the tower to fall in on itself.

"No going up from here," Aldwyn shouted to Ralof as she pressed her body to the wall next to the Nord, fire blasting past them and into the tower. The searing heat of the Dragon Fire reminded her of the eruption of the Red Mountain. The fire ended and the dragon flew off to find its next victim. Ralof leaned over to see out of the hole in the wall.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!" he said to Aldwyn as he turned back towards her. Aldwyn looked out the window to the charred husk that was the remains of what had apparently once been an inn. She looked over to Ralof with concern in her gaze. "Go! We'll follow when we can!" Then, Ralof ran back down the steps to report to the Jarl.

Aldwyn gazed down at the inn, judging the distance between the tower and the husk. "Well, here goes nothing..." she sighed.

 Taking a few steps back, she ran towards the hole in the wall and leapt the distance between the inn and the tower, landing on the second story before jumping down into the first floor, dodging the fire as she went. Upon exiting the inn, she saw Hadvar and a few civilians. A young boy was standing in the middle of the street staring at the Dragon.

"Haming, you need to get over here! Now!" Hadvar shouted, shaking Haming out of his stupor enough to let the boy run back to Hadvar. "Torolf!" Hadvar shouted to the other civilian, but the man he was calling out to died suddenly. "Gods... Everyone get back!"  The dragon landed on top of another tower and blasted more fire down upon the village. Aldwyn cursed and threw herself out from the way of the fire, hiding from the flames behind the charred husk of another house.

"Still alive, Aldwyn?" Hadvar asked with an almost manic tone to his voice.

"Damn dragon tried to block off our exit out of the tower, but we managed to escape." Aldwyn called back as she peered over the barrier at the dragon. "But yeah... still alive for now." She shifted her weight, cursing the fact that she did not have a bow.

"Good. Keep close to me if you want to stay that way!" Hadvar replied as he too looked out at the carnage. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense."

Gunnar nodded from his place hiding between barrels and stone as he reached out to take Haming by the shoulders. He guided the boy into his hiding spot and then looked over at Hadvar and called out a blessing as Hadvar led Aldwyn through the street and towards Helgen Keep.

"Damn... that dragon didn't just come for a meal, did it?" Aldwyn grunted as she pressed her body to the wall. The Dragon was standing on a house overhead and was shouting more flames down upon the poor souls in Helgen. "If you ask me, this thing is hell bent on destroying this place!" Hadvar grunted as he watched the dragon overhead with trepidation.

"Come on... get to the Keep!" He shouted then continued running towards the stone building in the distance.

Aldwyn followed after Hadvar, dodging flames and fire as she went. As she ran through a desiccated house, she paused to mourn a corpse of what looked like a mother holding her baby to her chest, burnt beyond all recognition. She muttered a prayer to Arkay and to Akatosh for them and continued after Hadvar.  As they approached the keep, there were Imperials and Stormcloaks alike shooting arrows at the Dragon. General Tullius broke away from the main group of Imperial soldiers.

"Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier! We're leaving!" he yelled as he began to direct his men into the keep. Hadvar moved to follow them.

"Its you and me, Aldwyn! Stay close!" Hadvar called out, then took notice to Ralof who came running in from a different direction, with Yisrael following behind him. "RALOF! You damned Traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time!" Ralof scoffed, motioning for Yisrael to enter the keep before him.

"Fine!" Hadvar growled. "I hope that Dragon takes you ALL to Sovngarde!" Then he ran into the keep. Aldwyn made to follow him but then paused as she locked eyes with the dragon. Her eyes glowed gold for a moment as she stared at the massive creature. Ralof noticed that she was still standing there.

"Hey! Aldwyn! Come on! Into the Keep!!!"

Aldwyn hesitated for a moment and watched as Yisrael ran into the keep after Hadvar. The dragon flew down and landed upon a portion of the stone wall surrounding Helgen and she could hear it scream "Yol Tor SHUUL!" as it belched more fire at the mortals in the town. Ralof ran over to Aldwyn and grabbed her by the arm.

"Freezing up like this will get you killed! Come on, into the Keep!" He yelled out over the sound of the dragon's fire blast. "Through here! Let’s go!" He then pulled her towards the doors to the keep.

As Aldwyn and Ralof opened the doors, the world seemed to go silent. She could still hear the sounds of the screaming people, the crackling of the fire, and the sound of buildings collapsing in on themselves...   but they were all muted and overlapped by a whining, high pitched tone that hurt her head.  The dragon looked her dead in the eye at that moment.

_"Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes'm. The chapter title was a reference.

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as an RP between myself and my good friend, Zen. We do not own the Elder Scrolls series. We also realize Canon and lore is being severely messed with. To be fair: If Alduin can get thrown out of time so can anyone else. Just sayin.


End file.
